


Broken.

by lizibabes



Series: MCR Bingo [13]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: AU, Brainwashing, Dark fic, M/M, Sex, Swearing, Violence, mind altering drugs, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-27
Updated: 2011-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 05:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizibabes/pseuds/lizibabes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the prompt Killjoys: Jet star/ Kobra kid for MCR bingo, Brainwashing for Dark bingo and non-con for 50kinkyways. Jet star is captured and brainwashed into believing his lover, Kobra kid is the one hurting him. Can the killjoys save him in time? Or is it already too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: I_glitterz  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters in this story and as far as I’m aware this never happened.

Jet star POV  
　  
Stay strong and stay silent, it's the code for any Killjoy captured by Better Living Industries. From the moment he was captured, all Jet star kept thinking to himself was the code, strong and silent, it was the way things worked, you didn't tell them anything, you got rescued, got yourself free or you died, but you didn't tell anyone anything. Don't tell them about the other Killjoys or the hiding places; don't tell them about the people on the air waves. You didn't know any answers to those questions, not co-operating could get you killed but that was the Killjoy way. Better death as a loyal Killjoy than life as a traitor. So from the moment he woke up in a cell he planned not to talk, only he wasn't asked any questions, he was left alone in his blank, too bright white walls all around him and it seemed like the cell got smaller every day, the walls getting closer.  
　  
He was finding silence easy; the Drac that brings him his food each day never says a thing and Jet star just takes the food, keeps his strength up and thinks of ways he can get past this Drac the next time he brings a meal, the Drac is armed, he isn't. Jet finds himself sleeping a lot in the first days, weeks, he's not sure how long really, time has become hazy locked in his small clean prison, no sounds, no colours, no smells, just blank walls and bland food, day after day after day. He thinks maybe the monotony would drive him mad if he had the energy, but he's so tired, even though all he does is sleep. By the time he thinks to even consider that the food he might be getting each day is drugged, it's already too late. He's too tired to try and stop; all he can think of is staying strong and staying silent, long after the words have lost any meaning.  
　  
And then one day two Dracs come into his room and when they step apart from standing shoulder to shoulder, Korse is behind them. Jet is on the floor, in the corner and everything feels fuzzy; an urgent voice in his head yells at him to move, fight, while another whispers at him to stay silent. He just sits where he is and blinks up at Korse, his enemy, the face of everything that isn't good or right in the world, the opposite to every Killjoy and what they stand for. He can feel the hatred, as strong as it ever was, but it's like it's trapped in its own little white cell inside him, it stays buried having no effect on him or his body. He should be angry, he should be fighting, instead he just sits, watching the Dracs and Korse as they watch him.  
　  
He's already got his back to the wall, so when Korse moves closer he has nowhere to go, that is if he had the energy to move anyway. He doesn't even flinch away from the hand on his shoulder, even though it's gripping too tight, enough to hurt, he should have been more careful, not ate the food, but starving to death had held no appeal.   
　  
"Jet star, do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you?" Korse asks.  
　  
Stay silent, stay silent, stay silent, he's sure nothing good will come from talking. He didn't even see Korse walk over to him, his brain isn't functioning fast enough for him to form lies and he can't fight, his body feels so heavy. It would take an able body and mind to get past Korse and he has neither.  
　  
"Don't want to talk, Jet star?" He doesn't like the way Korse says his name, over familiar, like Korse knows him.  
　  
His eyelids are heavy and they slip closed, before he blinks them open, he'd thought his eyes were closed for just a second, but it must have been longer. Korse has backed off and the two Dracs have hold of him, are stripping him. He tries to fight then, but his body feels so heavy and useless, limbs not responding to the messages his brain sends fast enough. He fights till he is panting and weak, for all the good it did, he's still stripped naked on the cold white floor. They let go of him and he drags himself back into his corner. Korse moves forward again though and grabs his bare ankle, tugging hard and Jet ends up on his back again, staring at a blinding white ceiling.  
　  
Korse is standing so close, it makes him shiver from fear and he can't hide it, he's too exposed like this, he wants to curl into a ball and hide, but when he tries Korse puts a booted foot down hard on his chest, pinning him in place, making every breath just that little harder to take.  
　  
"Why so shy, it's nothing I haven't seen before, Jet." Korse's voice, it just doesn't sound right, it sounds like Kobra kid's and Jet has to blink hard before he looks at the other man, but it's still Korse.  
　  
When Korse crouches down above him, hands by Jets head, knees bracketing his thighs, Jet lifts his arms to push the other man away, but Korse pushes his arms down as easily as if he were handling a child. He lifts his hand and Jet flinches, expecting a blow, but it never comes, instead Korse pets at his hair, pushing it back, the tender touch at odds with the bruising grip his other hand still has on his wrists.  
　  
"Shhh, don't fight me, Jet." He can see Korse lips moving, but he doesn't hear Korse's voice, he hears Kobra kid's and for a few panicked seconds, he thinks Korse has caught Kobra, but there is no one else in the room, just Korse and the Dracs and sound doesn't travel between cells.  
　  
Korse moves and moves him and Jet ends up face down on the cold white floor, he tries to crawl forward, but the weight on his back stops his weak body from going anywhere. He can hear noises, clothes coming off and then blunt hot pressure, a tearing pain and a voice screaming no over and over in his head, getting mixed up with the voice talking about silence and strength, that voice sounds like Party Poison, strong and confident. The screaming voice sounds like him. The voice talking about how tight and good he feels sounds like Kobra Kid and Jet is starting to think that whatever drug was in his food did more than make him weak. Every word Korse utters while inside his body comes out sounding like Kobra Kid, his friend, his fellow Killjoy, his lover.  
　  
When Korse and the Dracs leave, Jet drags himself back to his corner, where he can watch the door, trying to be strong as pain flares, sharp and bright, stealing his breath. He doesn't know how long it takes him to get to his corner, but he gets there. The room has changed, it hasn't got smaller, the way it has been for weeks, it has colour now. Smears of red on the white floor, Jet wonders how long the blood will be left before someone comes to clean it, get rid of the forbidden too bright colour.   
　  
They clean up the blood when they bring his food. Crimson smears disappearing, leaving the floor as starkly white as the walls and the ceiling. He doesn't eat the food, he knows all about the brainwashing drugs Better Living Industries has to offer and he knows that his food must have been drugged. It's why he's weak and tired, why he's hearing Kobra Kid's voice instead of Korse, they’re playing him, brainwashing him. He might not be able to fight his way out, but he can fight that, so he stops eating. He's not sure how many meals he's skipped before Korse walks through the door again with two Dracs at his back again. His body still feels tired, weaker actually from hunger, so he's really not sure how long it has been.  
　  
"Jet, what are you starving yourself? Do you want to hurt yourself?" Korse’s mouth, Kobra's voice, clearly he hasn't skipped enough meals yet.  
　  
He doesn't answer, he never does, silence still being whispered into his ear by Party Poison. His fearless leader, his lover’s brother, he wonders where they are now, if they got hurt when he was taken, he's sure he can remember Fun Ghoul bleeding, but his mind isn't clear on if that is a memory from the fight where he was taken or another fight, another time.  
　  
"Jet." Korse in kneeling down in front of him, Kobra's voice a taunt. Korse looks at him a moment then stands, he grabs Jet by the hair and forces him to his knees. One hand griping his hair tight as the other grips his jaw, pressing tight to the hinge until pain makes him open up. He doesn't know when Korse got his dick out, maybe in the time it took Jet to blink, but it's right there, in his face, already hard.  
　  
"You even think of biting and I'll have all your teeth pulled out of your mouth while you’re awake." He's never heard Kobra's voice sound so cruel.  
　  
Not Kobra, not Kobra, not Kobra, not Kobra. He repeats his new mantra on a loop as Korse thrusts his dick into Jet's mouth. Stay strong and stay silent don't seem to mean very much to him anymore, not when his greatest enemy is fucking his face and praising him in his lover’s voice. He doesn't want this, but he's too weak to fight Korse off, all he can do is live through it and be grateful that Korse doesn't seem to expect him to make it good, he just keeps thrusting, not caring when Jet gags. He feels sick, bile rises up in his throat, not wanting to choke because he doesn't trust Korse to pull out if he vomited, he doesn't want to die like that, he was meant to die fighting on some battle field, colours and guns and people all around him. He's not meant to choke to death on Korse’s dick in some tiny white cell, silent apart from Korse/Kobra's words and grunts.  
　  
"Yeah Jet, take it you fucking slut." Kobra wouldn't talk to him like that, he never has, it isn't Kobra, but it sounds like him, he'd recognise that voice anywhere.  
　  
"Pretty little bitch, this is all you’re good for. You can't fight or run, only good you do is on your knees for me. You’re a waste of space, no point giving you a gun, only thing you handle well is cock." Kobra would never be that spiteful, even though he has messed up, getting captured.  
　  
"Fucking born to take my dick. Gonna keep you here, use you when I need to get off and you'll always beg for more like a good little cock slut." Kobra spits out between grunts and Jet can feel tears running down his cheeks, blames the rough treatment, not the words, he can't lift his arms to wipe them without falling over, so he does nothing, letting them run as he tries to remember it isn't Kobra fucking his face, it's Korse, this is a trick, a mind game, he's been brainwashed, the drugs from the food still in his system.   
　  
Korse’s hips buck when he cums, he doesn't pull out, giving Jet the choice to swallow or choke, he swallows trying not to gag. Korse pulls out and without his grip on his hair and jaw, Jet finds himself falling sideways, hitting the floor with a dull thud. He watches Korse’s boots as he walks away with the Dracs. Food has been left for him on a tray, he pulls himself over to the tray, but ignores the food, taking a big gulp of water, even though it hurts his abused throat, he wants to get the taste of Korse out of his mouth. Korse, he'd sounded like Kobra when he came, a sound that Jet is very familiar with. He sips more water, the only thing he has allowed himself in days. Then he looks at the white plastic cup, he hasn't been eating and he hasn't been getting better, but he has been drinking. Jet throws the cup at the wall with as much force as he can, which isn't much, the water must be drugged too. He drags himself back to his corner once again.  
　  
He falls asleep and dreams, he sees the dessert and the stars, Kobra Kid laid out next to him, looking up as they hold hands. On alert for attack the way they always have to be, but feeling so free, so in love, this, what they have here in the dessert, is worth fighting for.  
　  
He wakes up determined to fight Korse, to stay strong and keep silent. Korse doesn't come in with the Dracs that day though, the Dracs come with dart guns. He doesn't get a chance to move before needles are buried in his skin. They make him sleepy and when he wakes up, a try of food is right by his head. His mouth is dry and his stomach rumbling, he eats and drinks everything on the tray before he remembers why that's a bad idea. He knows he shouldn't eat the food or drink the water, but he does and the next time two Dracs come into his cell he's not alone, Kobra Kid is with the Dracs, he looks different, the way he walks and moves isn't right and his eyes are cold and dead in a way Jet has never seen them, but it's Kobra. Kobra's face, his dust covered brightly coloured clothes and when he speaks, it's Kobra's voice.  
　  
"Come here, Jet." Kobra orders, but Jet star is too weak to stand, can't walk, can't even crawl that far. Not even for Kobra Kid.  
　  
Kobra looks pissed when he doesn't move, stomping over, one heavy boot coming down on the hand Jet has braced on the floor. He lets out a howl of pain as the boot grinds down, grinding bones together, snapping fingers, maybe breaking his hand, his hand throbbing in time with his heart when Kobra lifts his boot. He doesn't understand, why is Kobra here? Has he come to rescue him from Korse? Why is he hurting him?  
　  
"That make you scream, Jet star? I like that, want to hear it more, make you scream for me." Kobra hisses into his ear, one hand fisted in Jet's hair to drag him to his knees and then he's thrown down like a rag doll, his back hitting the floor hard.   
　  
Kobra pushes his legs apart, gets between them before Jet even has the chance to close them. He's so close, Jet star can see his face, the face of the man he loves and he has never seen it look so ugly, twisted with hate and anger. Dry blunt fingers find his hole, too many pushing all the way in all at once in some mocking parody of prep. It hurts and he can't hold in a whimper, feels sick at the glee that sparks in Kobra's eyes at the noise. Kobra takes him dry and Jet can't hold in the scream from the poker hot pain that tears through him, he feels like he's being split in two, his insides ripped to shreds. Kobra Kid has never hurt him this way before, never. He thrusts hard and fast, way getting slicker when Jet star starts bleeding. He screams, he begs him to stop, cries, but all Kobra does is smile.  
　  
When he starts talking, Jet really wishes he wouldn't, a porno monologue mixed in with humiliating insults, degrading comments that make his face flush as his brain tries to process why this is happening, his body can't fight and his mind can't understand.   
　  
"So fucking tight, baby, can't believe a fucking whore like you is this tight. Made for my cock, you dirty little slut, this is all you’re good for, all you'll ever be good for. Nothing but a cum hungry slutty piece of trash, willing to spread your legs for anyone who'll give you a load." Kobra sneers and for the first time since he's been here, Jet star ignores the voice telling him to stay silent and he opens his mouth.  
　  
"No." It comes out so softly, he can hardly hear it, his voice not used to being used for anything but screaming. He repeated it over and over again and eventually Kobra hears the one simple word over the filth he's spitting out.  
　  
"No?" Kobra repeats, like he doesn't get what the word even means.  
　  
"You’re arguing with me, you piece of shit?" Kobra asks and Jet star doesn't know what to do, what to say. Kobra is on top of him, inside of him, destroying him and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't understand why this is happening.  
　  
"Never say no to me again!" Kobra yells right into his face, slapping him hard before he keeps right on thrusting.   
　  
Jet lets his head fall to the side, his cheek feels like it's swelling already, he closes his eyes, not wanting to see Kobra doing these things to him, but every time Kobra notices his eyes are closed, he hits him again and eventually he has to give up, he has to watch as the man he loves rapes him, degrades him, uses him. He has no idea how long it takes, but then it's over and he's left alone, broken on the floor of his cell, his thighs slick with blood and cum.  
　  
Kobra visit's him every day, each time he leaves Jet star a little more broken, battered and violated, he just wants it to end, he just wants to die. The Dracs pour water and pills down his throat, he can't stop them, no matter how hard he tries, he's too weak. He thinks maybe he'll die soon, he vomited blood the other day, after Korse worked him over, left him bruised, bloodied and soiled. He hopes it means something has been badly damaged, but he can't tell, his whole body hurts, his whole world is pain. He still dreams of the dessert and a red haired man telling him to stay silent and strong, but he doesn't know why any more, doesn't know who the man is or what he wants from Jet. He's nothing, there is nothing he can do, he's Kobra's sex toy, his slut, nothing more than a toy to be broken over and over again until there is nothing left of him to break.  
　  
One night or maybe it's day, he can't tell anymore he hears noises, lots of noise. Fighting, gun fire, maybe another prisoner is escaping, he wishes them luck, hopes they manage what he knows he cannot. But then the door to his cell is opening and he lifts his head, it's not a Drac, it's a man in a yellow mask, with flame red hair and a gun. He knows this man.  
　  
"Shit! Fun ghoul, come help me right the fuck now." He yells and Jet star remembers, this is Kobra kid's brother, will he hurt him like Kobra has? Finish off the job his brother started?  
　  
Party Poison is close before Jet even realised he moved and then Fun Ghoul is there, he doesn't look hurt. Jet's scrambled brain remembers he was hurt. He doesn't know how long he's been here, in his little white cell, if Fun Ghoul’s not being hurt now means he never was or if it's just been so long he's healed.   
　  
"Fuck, what the fuck did they do to him." Fun ghoul gasps as he gets close. Jet doesn't know how he looks, no mirrors in here, but he knows it has to be bad from the way he feels and now from the look on Fun Ghoul’s face.  
　  
"He's hurt bad, I'll carry him, you cover me okay?" Party asks, he looks pale, none of the twisted hate on his face that Jet has grown use to on his brothers.  
　  
He wants to scream when Party touches him, but he bites down on his lip, that voice, Party's voice whispering stay silent to him, even though Party Poison's lips aren't moving.  
　  
Pain makes everything a blur around the edges, he doesn't know how they get him out, just that they do, that he's being wrapped in a blanket and bundled into the trans am. He can smell the night air and smoke, he manages to turn and look, Better Living Industries is burning, he wonders if Korse is inside, he hopes he is, wonders if Kobra's in there. He spots Kobra walking towards the car, eyes gleaming but not with hate, he thinks maybe he screams then, but he blacks out, so he can't be sure.  
　  
When he wakes up he's in a room somewhere, for a minute he's confused not to see the white walls of his cell, but then he remembers what happened, he looks around and Kobra is sat in a chair at his bedside. Jet star freaks the fuck out, body thrashing, his only thought is that he has to get away, he's hurt though and pain shoots through his body, turning everything black. When he wakes up again, Kobra is gone. Party poison is there, he talks about drugs, about brainwashing and tries to get Jet to eat something, he doesn't listen and he doesn't trust the food or this man.  
　  
He wakes up night after night from nightmares, he sweats and shakes while he's awake, detoxing what he was giving in the cell back in Better Living Industries, well that's what Fun Ghoul tells him. Kobra comes in again when he's starting to feel less weak and Jet star grabs a glass with the hand that isn't broken and throws it at him. It misses, shattering against a wall and Jet star has never seen anyone look so hurt.   
　  
He's sitting up by himself and able to walk around a little, actually eating when memories start to come back. Korse with Kobra's voice and he starts to think, to reason. Kobra wouldn't have been in Better Living Industries, being trailed by a pair of Dracs, coming and going from prisoner’s cells, but Korse would. Kobra Kid has never hurt him before the cell, not by accident and not on purpose; he's never cussed at him, made him feel like dying would be a better option. Korse has been trying to kill and break them for years. Korse kept him alive for a reason, to break him, to break a Killjoy. Could Korse have brainwashed him to think he was seeing someone he wasn't, to think he was being hurt by someone who wasn't even there?  
　  
It's a long time before he can be in a room with Kobra Kid, the real Kobra Kid, longer still before he can cope with being alone with him. It's not until long after every bruise has faded from his body that he lets Kobra touch him again. Just Kobra's hand in his, but it's a start, his body may be healed, but his mind has a way to go, needs to heal from what the brainwashing drugs did to him. It helps knowing Kobra will hold his hand, every step of the way. The first time he leans in and kisses Kobra, the other man doesn't stop smiling for hours. He'll never forget what he went through, but he will get past it and he will be with Kobra Kid again… someday.  
　  
The End.


End file.
